“Hey, whatcha doing?”

Colt leans over the back of the couch where I’m sitting with my feet up, skimming a massive What to Expect When You’re Expecting book. With Madison playing quietly with her little pony toys on the other side of the room, I thought I’d take advantage of the quiet time and relax a little.

“I want to make sure there isn’t any food I should avoid at the party. I know Julia probably covered it with her caterers, but you can never be too safe.” I slide my hand over my firming belly.

At almost five months pregnant, I’m just barely starting to show. I’m still not even wearing maternity clothes. It makes it hard not to be jealous of Julia, whose little belly is beginning to look like a perfect little basketball. Meanwhile, I look like I can’t lay off the donuts.

If she didn’t specifically put both of our names on the baby shower invitations, I guarantee you that no one would think we’re both due at the same time. Still, my belly might not have popped yet, but I can still feel my little bean rolling around in there, and knowing the baby is developing and healthy is really the only thing that matters.

“I’m sure you can eat whatever you want, can’t you?” He rubs my shoulders gently.

“No, that’s not true. See?” I point to the page. “It says right here I should avoid fish, deli meat, raw eggs, and soft cheeses.”

“Raw eggs? Why would you eat raw eggs even if you weren’t pregnant?”

“They mean like in traditional Caesar salad or meringue pie, not like you’d sit down with a bowl of raw eggs and eat them.” My stomach lurches at the thought. Even though my morning sickness ended after the first trimester, I’m still sensitive to feeling sick at minor things.

“Ahhh, gotcha.”

He walks around the couch and sits down next to me. Grabbing my foot, he rubs tiny circles into my big toe. I can’t believe how quickly we’ve settled in together. Colt and I fit like a glove. Living with him has made my life so much better. Even though Madison occasionally acts out and clearly favors Colt over me, we’re still a tight-knit little family.

“Have you decided if you’re gonna find out or not?” Colt nods at my slightly bloated belly. Next week is our twenty-week ultrasound and we can finally find out the sex of our child, if we wish. Colt said that if it were only up to him, he would find out. I think he wants to start buying cute little onesies.

“Yeah, the thing is, I think I want to keep it a surprise. It’s just, there are so few surprises left when you grow up. Besides, Julia and I talked about it, and we think it’d be fun to both find out on our due dates. She told me they didn’t find out at their appointment either.”

With only two weeks between our pregnancies, Julia gets to go through every milestone fourteen days ahead of me. It’s been like getting a little preview of every phase I’m about to go through before it happens. Of course, like most things in life, Julia’s version is usually better. During her first three months she never got sick one single time, where I had my head hovering over the toilet every morning.

Her hair and skin have never looked better, giving off that cliché pregnancy glow everyone always talks about, but I just keep fighting to keep hormonal acne off my face. Now with her little tummy poking out from her flowing dresses, she looks like one of the models for the maternity line of clothes. I guess I haven’t been getting a preview of what to expect as much as a preview of what perfect pregnancy looks like.

“I know you want to get a heads-up so you can paint the office and set it up for the nursery, but we can just go with yellow instead.”

Colt avoids my eyes, staring at his hands.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like yellow? We can do another color. I’m not attached to yellow.”

“No, Isabella, it’s not about the color. It’s just, well, with Lisa working through her program, I need to start thinking about the possibility of sharing custody of Madison. I, uh, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought and there might be a chance I’ll need to relocate to Florida for all that to work out.”

Florida? Move?

The words might as well be in a different language with how much sense they’re making in my head. I don’t know the first thing about the sunshine state, except it’s not my home. I’ve spent my entire life in Manhattan. I always pictured my children growing up here too. Colt watches my face intently, waiting for me to react.

“No move away! No move!” Madison screams, tossing her pony across the room angrily. “I no leave. I stay here with Colt!” she shrieks, and I realize it isn’t anger, but fear that’s making her melt down.

I watch from the couch, uncertain of what to say or do. Colt jumps up and sweeps her up in his arms.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re just talking. I’m not saying anyone is moving. It’s just talking, Madison.”

“No move!” she screams again, tears smearing her cheeks. “I don’t go. No go!” She balls her hands up into little fists and they tremble with emotion.

My heart squeezes in my chest as I watch her struggle with the idea. I had no idea she was listening in on our conversation, let alone understanding it. I watch helplessly as Colt carries Madison down to her room and listen as he sings her songs and calms her down. Whenever she has tantrums or nightmares it reminds me how unprepared I am for motherhood.

I don’t know the first thing about bringing a child into this world, and these stupid books aren’t going to teach me. I toss the What to Expect book to the other end of the couch, sighing.

The last sounds of Madison’s crying peter out, and Colt comes back into the living room without her.

“She’s tired. I put her down for a nap. I guess I’m going to need to be more careful with what I say around her. I always forget she’s listening.” He rubs his hand and his eyebrows press together with concern. “Look, I didn’t mean to stress everyone out about Florida. I’m sorry.” He walks across the room and joins me on the couch.

“I’m not stressed about it, don’t worry.” I hope my tone is convincing, but I can see in his eyes that my acting skills need work.

“Well, I just brought it up so you would have time to think about it, that’s all. Maybe the judge will determine that permanent custody here is what’s best for her.” Now he’s the one who sounds like he’s reading a script. He puts his hands on my tiny belly and looks me in the eyes. “Regardless, we’ll get through whatever happens together. We’re a family, right? And that’s what families do.”

I wish I could believe him, but I just don’t know how long we’ll be able to hold our little family together once Lisa has complete freedom again.

“That’s what families do,” I echo his words, but I don’t feel reassured. I know Colt is doing everything he can to make everyone happy, but with Lisa hovering in the background I can’t help but feel like we’re working against a ticking time bomb. Except in our case, there’s no telling if or when it’s gonna explode.